#Ikemen Leonardo

[letters-from-ikemen]

Water-Stained Letter, Dated For Your Anniversary

Cara Mia,

It’s been a long time since I’ve written you a letter, huh?

I guess I’ve gotten sentimental in my old age. But I always was when it came to you.

Comte said it might be helpful to write my feelings down. Like I’m talking to you. I can pretend you’re still with me.

Might as well give it a try.

Been over a hundred years since I saw you last. You know, we’re in your modern time now. With your skyscrapers and electronic devices. Business as usual with us. Everyone’s adjusted to the times. Even Jean. You’d have loved to see it.

Comte’s still got everyone living in that mansion in the woods outside of Paris. Still the same as it was when you left. There’s a few more of us now. I just know you’d win them over like you did everyone else.

They still talk about you, you know. Everyone does. They miss you, even if they don’t say it out loud.

The halls are quieter and the days are darker without your smile. Sleep is harder to find without your happy laughter. Sometimes I still wake up expecting to see you in my arms.

Eternity is a long time to go without your optimism, cara mia.

Today would have been our one-hundred-fiftieth anniversary.

A hundred and fifty years since we met. It feels like only yesterday you stumbled through that door and into our lives.

Heh. To an immortal vampire, I guess it was. To you, it was your whole life.

I’d say it’s gotten easier over the years, but I’d be lying. I promised you in the beginning I’d never lie to you.

If you were here you’d be reminding me that I promised to talk about more stuff with you. Together. You’d be pushing me to at least talk to le Comte. Telling me I shouldn’t close myself off from everyone now that you’re gone. Saying that I’d gotten used to sharing more of myself and my thoughts with you over the years and that I didn’t have an excuse not to anymore.

But le Comte isn’t you.

And I don’t talk to them because talking about you won’t bring you back.

The day you passed was the day I died, too.

I miss you.

I love you.

Non vedo l'ora di rivederti.

(the rest of the letter is illegibly smudged with water)

a letter for anon, thank you for the request!

About this blog || Request Rules

[ana-thedaydreamer]

How many years since my last drawing in paper 😆

[y2ashlee]

He sounds like a Mother who is happy her kid finally found someone

My precious baby boy finally found someone I’m so happy!

[weird-profiterole]

✨ Finally changing my wallpaper ✨

After Napoleon x Wellington, it's now Leonardo x Michelangelo ♡

Still drawn by the amazing @devonares ✨

[iphigeniainaulis]

Background paintings in Ikevamp and why they matter

...even if you are not familiar with art.

Warnings: minor spoilers for all routes, though I tried to keep it as vague as possible

Time to talk about background paintings in Ikemen vampire because…why not?

First, let me warn you that the following is nothing but a theory based on some visual resemblance. While it may occur that Ikemen designers wanted to hide a few Easter eggs, it's also fair to mention that sometimes the sky is blue just because it's Sunday morning, and that’s all. 

Nevertheless, one detail may hint at the former statement being true. And this is because there’s a significant difference in how different paintings are shown in the game. 

Some of them are blurry, overdark or too bright. While we can distinguish some unclear silhouettes, the rest is on our imagination.

For example, it seems that the first picture is the natural landscape (probably, sunset in the forest) as well as the second one with the Ionic style columns being placed in the center of a garden. Still, we’re not sure.

But the thing is it doesn’t matter. The amount of details the viewer is given is too small for us to make any art-historical assumptions. Based on these mere images we can figure out neither the artist who painted them nor the narrative. Therefore, these paintings have only a secondary function of background decorations and proof of demonstration of their owner’s wealth. 

On the contrary, there are paintings that we can easily detach because their creators are too famous to be unfamiliar with. But even within this scope of paintings there is a slight differentiation due to the way they are incorporated in the game design. 

Some of them have been revived by the hands of geniuses who once created them. This is the case of Leonardo’s Study of a woman’s head and Study of Hands

 or Vincent’s Sunflower and the Olive trees

While it’s easy to reduce the meaning behind this design decision to simple hype, I think that it also serves as a visual representation of the suitors' character traits. What is the point of redrawing the painting that was already brought to life a long time ago? For Vincent it means years, for Leonardo - centuries. My guess is that for artists like them it's never enough. Life is too beautiful to be captured once and forever. A woman’s face is never a mystery solved. While for many people it’s okay to achieve a goal and forget about it the exact minute they are done, for geniuses like Leonardo and Vincent it’s always different. You must improve. You have to work further. There is always something new an artist’s eye can capture. That’s why they painted it again, again and again. 

Let's move to another group of paintings. Spotting The Starry Night in Theo’s room is not a surprise because we know that, first of all, they’re brothers with Vincent, and, secondly, Theo is an art dealer.

What deserves to be brought into focus is that this work is regarded as the elder Van Gogh’s magnum opus. Sure, you can argue that the real Theo and Vincent thought little of this painting, calling it “a failure”. To which I reply that, again, this is a game for numerous people across the world, including those who are not familiar with art history. For many of us The Starry Night is viewed as one of the most popular art works, a special work, a valuable one. Therefore, by omitting historical accuracy Ikemen writers and designers try to achieve something more contributing to the plot - they try to evoke certain emotions. Putting the art of such great significance in the room of one of the brothers should be a clear indicator of the amount of respect and love the two of them share. Describing the emotional bond between them is mainly the prerogative of writers. But sometimes game design plays no less if not more meaningful role in the process of us as readers getting familiar with characters. The painting here becomes a subtle part of the plot as it highlights certain prerequisites of their relationship and prepares us for what is going to come next.

The latter is especially relevant to Vlad's route. The female portrait in the pureblood’s room is what takes background paintings in Ikevamp on a fundamentally new level - the level of plot-forming core.

Unlike those paintings I mentioned at the beginning, these ones are no longer a substitute for the room decor. Instead, they serve as a device that pushes the plot forward. It accumulates three major points that are relevant to the plot:

It adds the mystery element for triggering our curiosity. The portrait is ‘faceless’, and even though we all see the resemblance in features, there is this ‘if’ element. What if they decided to go with a classical Dracula plot? Eternal vampire loses his lover and waits for her to be reborn? Is this MC? Why can’t he remember her face?

The portrait itself allows us to get for a second into Vlad’s head and understand his feelings towards the mysterious woman. Vlad drawing her portrait is caused by the act of kindness she showed him. His entire motivation is connected to the single painting. She was the one who he wanted to be with. In order to do so, he had to become strong, to accept his tragic loss and move forward. The portrait serves as a silent reminder about what was his goal and why he chose the path he chose. 

It circulates the narrative. At the beginning, MC faces the challenge of being the third one in the relationship with Vlad and his unknown lover. She questions the identity of that unknown counterpart of hers and secretly wants to learn more about her. By revealing the truth of Vlad’s past and their connection, MC figures out who was the woman in the painting which in some way pushes her to find enough strength for making a certain groundbreaking decision. 

Finally, there is the third group of paintings that possess what I call ‘potential meaning’. These paintings maintain the main features of the two previous groups, namely, vague silhouettes combined with a rather clear narrative that somehow increases the possibility of them being more than a decorative object.

Take a look at the two paintings in Vincent’s room. In comparison to all other paintings these ones differ not only in terms of shape but also in terms of color. The lines seem to be more fluid, and the color palette is dominated by ochreous, blue and black which is typical for East Asian classical ink art. By taking a closer look, you can actually see the vague outlines of the sea and shrouded in mist mountains in the background. Personally to me such landscapes together with a specific composition angle remind of Hokusai’s Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji which can be a great allusion to Van Gogh’s obsession with Japanese prints and their role in his artistic career. 

The huge painting in Comte’s living room has been haunting me for years, I shall admit. It portrays a marine landscape with a single boat chasing the wild waters in the dark or right before the sunrise. When talking about marine art, the first person that comes to my mind is Ivan Aivazovsky. Yet, it is evident that Aivazovsky’s style was pure romanticism with heavy realistic elements, whereas this painting looks like it's more about light and colores rather than clear and precise lines. And also this sun, this strange orange sun..that can be spotted only in Claude Monet's Impression. Sunrise. 

The mansion’s copy is a darker mirrow image of the original work. Nobody knows why Comte chose this painting for the mansion, but isn’t it a bit of irony that the painting that praises France, the country that suffered from the war with Prussia and was on its way to revitalisation, is located in the house that is about to face the battle between the lesser vampires and their haunters or rather the figurative war of two different morals (we are yet to know about it, though)?

Another version is that the painting serves as a metaphoric description of the character. In various routes MC mentions how Comte reminds her of the sun that made manifest, and everything supports this claim to be true, from his golden eyes and hair, to the brightness of the room and..paintings that symbolize the master of the mansion.

Finally, I wouldn't forget about the massive backlash Impressionists had to face at the early stage of the movement’s existence. It was only until the 5th Impressionist exhibition in 1880 that the artists finally got praised by critics. Just a bit more than 10 years before the MC’s appearance. However, we know that the creation of the mansion had taken place before this event. So, my point is that probably Monet’s painting was purchased by the greater vampire during the times when Impressionists were still harshly criticized by the Salon. And if so, the display of the painting that represents the les misérables of the art world speaks so much volume about Comte’s character and devotion to fulfill what he perceives as his noblesse oblige - to support those in need, to help them reveal their talent no matter what social class they belong to. 

The game room’s central painting is another amusing detail as it’s completely out of mood. Playing cards, watching chess games or taking any other light leisure activity with a glass of brandy in your hand, you rarely expect to raze your gaze from the table only to stare at the image of ruins. Yet, this is what we get here - a typical capriccio painting like those of Alessandro Salucci and Leonardo Coccorante.

Capriccio artists dared to do something new in the history of art - they put real archeological signs into fantasy surroundings, sometimes from the same time period that the artists lived in. To an extent, they brought the ancient past and allowed it to live in the future, which is not a bad allusion to the original purpose of the mansion’s creation.  

And here is what we can spot in Shakespeare’s room. At first, I didn't think much about this painting in Will’s bedroom but something felt odd. And then I understood. 

You see, there’s this famous Vincent’s work named Cafe Terrace at Night. The painting is created from the north eastern corner that allows us to see the starry night without facing an obstacle in the form of the cafe's roof. 

But this is how the modern cafe looks from a different perspective. Yellow elongated building with two wide niches that serve both as windows and entrance. 

Do you see it, right? RIGHT?

I headcanon that Vincent was so eager to spoil his new friend with a present that he decided to redraw his favorite work and  give it to the bard. But being an empathetic and observant one, Vincent immediately figured out Will’s admiration of everything unique and rare, so he decided to create a completely new version of his own painting instead of just redrawing it from the same angle as he did with sunflowers. 

Aaand this is what we get in the living room. Random at first sight, the composition of various unrelated pictures actually makes sense. The most evident one is, of course, the image of theater curtains. What else should we expect to see in the manor of the great Bard of Avon? The same curtains, by the way, appear in almost every scene where MC and her suitor are invited to Shakespeare’s play.

Just a small detail, but I think this is one of those rare occasions when we can actually name the place Ikemen writers took inspiration from (apart from, of course, Louvre and the University of Paris). What helps us here is the curtains over which we spot golden metal lambrequin with a cartouche that imitates the image of the sun.

Such a prolonged lambrequin with the sun image (in honor of Louis XIV, the Sun King and also the father of the Paris Opera) in the center actually exists only in one Parisian theater - Opera Garnier, where in 1888 Shakespeare’s  Roméo et Juliette was staged.

Just to make sure, look at the curtains in some of the most popular theaters that existed during the historical period in Ikevamp -  Théâtre du Châtelet or the Opéra-Comique. You won't find a similar one.

Two last possible Easter eggs may be related to the two historical objects that existed during Shakespear’s era. The first one is still connected to the curtains for as you see, there were rumors (modern archeological findings prove them to be true) that the first venue of Shakespeare’s plays was called ‘the Curtain Theatre’.

And the second thing I want to point at is two images of the chair. Honestly, I highly doubt that a person like Will who has an almost narcissistic obsession with expensive staff would put a painting of such low value in his private apartment. But I can understand it, if this is not an image of  some random piece of furniture but the well-known Shakespeare’s Courting Chair, wherein, according to William Henry, ‘the bard was used to sit, during his courtship, with his Anne upon his knee’. 

Anyway, I hope it wasn't too much. Thank you for reading!

[leotoru]

So, I was thinking what if Leonardo has a childhood best friend from his hometown who is actually looking for him throughout the past few decades but wasn’t able to track him down and finally finds him in the outskirts of Paris at the cafe where he usually goes to have his dose of caffeine.

I am just wording out the scenario that popped up in my head. English isn’t my first language so forgive me for any mistakes and I don't have many experiences with writing, kind of you can say this my first ever fanfiction I am posting, hope you enjoy

IN SEARCH FOR THE LOST

pairing: Leonardo x reader

NB: The reader here is a pure-blood vampire just like him

word count: 1865

It was back in the streets of 19th century Paris, where an unusual woman is walking around the busy streets in hopes of finding her long lost childhood friend who she adored a lot. He was special to her, the person she never wanted to lose and wanted to spend all eternity with him. But what changed all of a sudden? What was the reason for his sudden flight? Why did he leave without telling her anything? Why did he leave so abruptly? Was she angry about this? Yes, more like she was worried about him. He knew she would be there for him no matter the circumstances she has always been by his side, but what happened now? Why didn't he come to her? There were a ton of questions to which she didn’t have any answers. 

sighing a bit, I walked through the busy streets not knowing any directions or the people around. “I searched everywhere, every nook and corner of the world and this is the only place left and I really hope I will be able to find him, oh lord help me find him here it’s been years already”

I rub my temples as I feel a strong headache. “I haven’t drank blood in a while hope I don’t faint in the middle of the hunt” thinking to myself I turn to look at glass door of a cafe, staring at my reflection as I run a hand through my cheek “I haven’t felt thirsty as well and I have gone pale and look a lot weak, I should consume something to ease the tiredness” My vision blurred out from my reflection towards the insides of the cafe “It looks cozy inside, guess a coffee would help”

I opened the door to the cafe store which welcomed me with the strong aroma of coffee. As I inhale a lung full of its strong, sweet vibrant hypnotizing fragrance all my senses went back to its usual functioning process as if a huge burden has been removed from my head feeling a bit light at the moment, “I never thought I really needed something like this to get back to my senses” smiling softly to myself while I dig into my deepest core of memories and nostalgia about the time I send with him, “I should feel the warmth and love that I felt back then but why does it hurts so much right now thinking about it” sighing again as I try to push back my aching heart which was heavy with conflicting emotions I dragged myself to the counter to order my dose of drug as in coffee I mean. 

I looked up at the menu board which was placed above the counter. The writings were quite difficult to read at first because of the skilled calligraphy style but somehow, I managed to decode it. Thanks to the urge to learn all types of languages around the world that I am now able to read a bit of French in here, “what should I order now? Hmm?” I was so lost on what to pick that I almost lost my awareness which was pulled back by a faint thick male voice laced with an Italian accent from behind me. My heart stopped at the thought of, “could it be? could it be?” “Cara…. Mia”, my thoughts were again interrupted by the same voice that was laced with nonchalance as well as surprise, “That nickname that very nickname, don’t tell me that I .... that I have….”  I took a deep breath not able to turn and look behind me “turn around, turn around!! damn it do something good for once!”, I curse myself as my limbs get numb with over stimulation of thoughts that were running a mile per minute, “I swear to god damn it turn around you fool” “Cara Mia… Cara Mia what…what are you doing here?” I can already feel the weariness in his voice even though he is trying his best to hide it. My eyes sting with the tears that were threatening to fall down through my cheek, “why am I feeling this way, why…why, why does my heart clench inside my chest, I feel… I feel as if…as if…” Suddenly I feel a pair of hands grabbing onto my shoulders, turning me around to face him. His golden orbs scan my face thoroughly, wiping the tears away before taking a deep breath, his hands leave my shoulder, and his hands intertwine with my fingers holding them tight as if trying to say something beyond any words can express. After what it felt like eternity he let go of my hands and held onto one of my wrists “come with me” he said politely before dragging me out of the cafe.

We walked along the busy streets of Paris hurrying his way through the crowd.  I can feel his grip tightening around my wrist as if not wanting to let go any moment, those soft glances every now and then checking on me to make sure I am comfortable just like the good old days. We haven’t talked anything till now as he finally made his way away from the bustling busy area to a more calm and peaceful countryside of Paris.

He let go of my wrist when I slowly but carefully took a few steps towards the lake that was stretched out towards the vast expense. I inhaled the fresh air laced with the scent of florals that surrounds the area “feeling better? Hmm?” he walked towards me as I turned to look at him. His gaze was solemnly focused on me like I was his only source of oxygen “what brings you here Cara Mia? Care to answer me?” My mind was racing with millions and millions of questions that I wanted to ask him but seeing those beautiful golden orbs of his lurking with sadness in them I hesitate for a moment  “say something, anything, at least scold me for my recklessness curse me for my stubbornness please I can’t stand your cold shoulder” His eyes were pleading, urging me to say something begging me to give out any form of reaction, let be anger, let it be my sorrow, anything and everything, he was ready to face it. Taking a deep breath, he brushed his fingers along my cheek “you look pale and…weak, how long have you been not eating anything? Why are you not taking care of yourself? Cara Mia please I beg of you” He pulled me into a strong embrace, wrapping his arms around my waist as his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck inhaling my scent as the tears that he wiped off fell down through my cheek, “I…I missed you dearly Leonardo” I clench onto his coat as my tears soaked his shirt, “I missed you so much” I hid my face against his chest still clutching onto his coat

“I am sorry” he said, “I was…I was angry at my family for seeing me only as a pawn for continuing the bloodline.” he pauses thinking to himself before tightening his grip on my waist, “I felt like…like” there was a long pause before he continued “you know that how much I hate myself, I hate the way I am, I hate at the thought of consuming blood for my survival, I hate every aspect of my life” he lifted his head to look at me, his thumb brushing away my tears, “But you… you were always the one who stood by my side a-…” I cut him off with my sharp tone as the words spilled out from my lips before I could stop them, “Shut up Leonardo! Just shut up” I cried even more, “you have no idea… have no idea how much it hurts me, how painful it is to know that the person you cherished so much left without saying a word” I was struggling to say put as my body was getting weak with the lack of energy and the pain I was feeling. “You did know that I will always be there for you, we have always been together. When everything else withered away I only had you and when…when I heard about your departure I…I felt as if a dagger pierced through my heart, how could you do that to me Leonardo, how could you? I was there for you through thick and thin and why leave me all alone? Why did you do that?” “because I care about you idiot” he yells before I could finish what I was saying “I didn’t wanted to drag you along the hell loop that I was cursed to walk down” he cups my cheeks making me look at him, “I wanted you to be happy and lively as always but guess I was wrong all along” he let go of my cheek and slid his hands along my arms and rested against my waist “thought you would be happy without me” he rested his forehead against mine before closing his eyes, “but I was wrong…I was wrong (Y/N), I don’t deserve forgiveness for the mess I have created but will you be able to forgive me (Y/N)?” I nod my head softly, “don’t do something like this ever again don’t think that you are alone, I have always been there for you right as a family, as a fri-” He pulled me and pressed his soft lips against mine for a brief moment before pulling away to look at me, “I want to be more than friends with you, I want to be your everything, I want to keep you close to me always so that i don’t lose you again, will you allow me for that?” smiling softly I looked up at him, “I don’t want to lose you again” I leaned into his touch as he cupped my cheek with one hand while the other held onto waist protectively, “i am all yours Leonardo” as I say this he locks his lips against mine once again but this time he conveyed his emotions through the kiss that were beyond words, it grew more passionate as he deepened the kiss before pulling away to look at me. He was panting heavily as his gaze was fixed on my lips slowly guiding it towards my eyes, “I can’t get enough of you (Y/N), I want more, I need more and I love you so much (Y/N) I love you for all eternity” He leans and kisses against my forehead before pulling me into a strong embrace as we felt each other's warmth…..

[arthurs-puppygirl]

Yes Papi~ 🐶

[misty-moth]

[bicayaya]

“make my wish come true…”

“…all i want for christmas is you.”

☁︎ leonardo da vinci moodboard - 9 days of christmas (7/9)

[violettduchess]

Night in the Mansion- Vamp Headcanons🌙

A/N: This is not a request. Just an idea I had in the middle of the night 🌝 Sometimes you have to write for yourself.

Fluff

The Grandfather clock at the end of the halls chimes three times, its heavy bronze pendulum gleaming in the moonlight that streams in from the tall, arched windows. Deep within the warmth of your blanket, you stir, heavy eyelids lifting with effort as you wake…

Leonardo:

….with his strong arms around you, his long body curled around yours from behind. One leg also lazily thrown over yours, but you don’t mind the weight. It feels good. You feel warm and safe and protected. He smells faintly of cigarillo smoke and paper and he's snoring. Not loudly, just a lightly voiced breathing sound that brings a small smile to your lips. Who ever would have thought you’d find that endearing? Love makes the smallest things special. You snuggle down within the cradle of his arms and close your eyes again, allowing sleep to reclaim you.

Mozart:

…and blink as you allow your eyes to adjust to the dim, silvery lighting of Mozart’s bedroom. He is not in bed. Rubbing your eyes, you slide out from under the warm covers and into the pale lavender velvet dressing gown he gave you for your birthday. Matching slippers protect your feet from the night’s chill as you light your chamberstick and make your way out of the bedroom, through the rich, shadowy halls until you reach the music room. He is there, at the piano, pencil in hand as he leans across the keys, scratching notes onto paper at a speed which boggles the mind. It is only when you say his name that the pencil stops and his violet gaze turns to you. It takes a moment before the fog of creation lifts and he recognizes you there. Now the yawn he has been stifling escapes. You walk over, sitting down onto the piano bench next to him, your hand coming to rest against the small of his back. Just a few more minutes he promises. You nod and he graces you with that soft smile that is only yours. A gentle kiss to your temple, a caress of your cheek and then he belongs to the music once again.

Theo:

…to feel a heavy arm thrown across your bare back, a leg draped over yours, casually possessive. You smile to yourself as you shift, memories of how the night began dancing provocatively through your mind. As you move, he stirs as well, rolling onto his side. His beautiful summer eyes never open, but his arms reach for you, pulling you against him, skin on skin. He mumbles something, asking in a voice rough with sleep if you’re ok. Your arms are tucked against his bare chest, your head using his arm as a pillow. If he would open his eyes, he’d see the sleepy, soft light of affection and love in your gaze. You tilt your head up and press a kiss to his chin, whispering that you’re fine and to go back to sleep. He huffs out a grunt in answer, but pulls you even closer with his one free arm. 

Napoleon:

…and yawn, still half in dreamland. Napoleon’s room is blanketed in shadow and his luxurious covers are heavy and warm. You move your leg, finding a cool spot under the blanket and adjust your pillow. You reach out with your hand in the dark, sliding it across the sheets until you find his. His hand is upturned, lax with sleep. You slide your hand into his and reflexively, he responds, lacing his fingers through yours. If you don’t fall asleep in his arms, you fall asleep holding hands. Always. Connected once again to the man you love, you drift off back to sleep.

Comte:

….your head pillowed on Comte’s shoulder, your arm resting across his lean abdomen. You fit against him, smooth and precise as the stones in Ashlar masonry. You lift your arm, rubbing your eyes as you slowly come out of dreaming. He breathes in deeply and then his eyes, burnished gold in the pale light, open. He glances down at you and you feel a stab of guilt at waking him. As if reading your mind, he smooths back your hair and asks if you’re alright. His voice is the gentle breeze that stirs the sleeping leaves, soft and reassuring. You nod, lifting your upper body away from him for a moment, stealing a kiss in the middle of the night. No one has ever welcomed a thief more than Le Comte. He smiles as you settle back down against him, adjusting you until you are both comfortable. You fall back asleep to the rhythm of his hand stroking your hair.

Arthur:

…to find Arthur, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Sleepily you push yourself up, shaking the last wisps of sleep out of your mind. In the pale moonlight, he looks almost like a statue, his pale skin white as marble, the lines of muscles and sinew echoing Michelangelo's David. You ask him why he’s awake, if everything is ok. He quickly reassures you that he is fine. And then, looking almost sheepish, goes on to explain that he woke an hour or so ago with an idea for a story. He’s been composing it in his mind ever since. Affection and admiration bloom in equal measure within the chambers of your heart. The mind of a writer when inspiration strikes is always a wonder to you. Leaning over, you place a kiss on his cheek, the other hand cupping the side of his face. Would he like to get up, make some notes? He catches your hand, turns to place a sweet kiss in your palm. And then a lingering kiss to your wrist. And then heated kisses down your forearm. And then you’re being pressed back down into the pillows, kisses suddenly raining down so quickly you can’t keep track. What about the story, you ask as the storm of kisses and caresses pours over you. That luv, can wait until morning.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @ariamichel @kpop-and-otome

[clavissionary-position]

Theo: *slaps briefcase full of cash on the table*

Theo: I'm investing in your future

Shakespeare: As...?

Theo: As someone who will maintain a 5-city distance from Vincent at all times

Shakespeare: And if I take your money without doing as you say?

Theo: The briefcase will explode

Shakespeare: I'd simply take all the cash out first

Theo: Hey! Don't open it until I leave—

Shakespeare: *opens briefcase*

Briefcase: *50 cats jump out*

Theo: ...!

(at the mansion)

Isaac: And here's your briefcase full of cats

Leonardo: *opens briefcase*

Mansion: *explodes*

[ana-thedaydreamer]

- Taboo禁忌 -

[y2ashlee]

Da Vinki??

I started playing Ikemen Vampire

Technically I had played it before but only vaguely. And apparently I played more then I thought I did as I only remember reading a few parts of the prologue but I played more of it then I thought. I did the registration for logging in and whatnot and found out I had played up to 4 chapters. Of the same character that I had picked yesterday when I started to play it again. So I guess my tastes didn’t change from whenever the hell I played this before.

The character was Leonardo da Vinci. With is funny that they picked him as a love interest in a female Mc dating game as it is theorised that he was gay so it’s kinda funny. 

[weird-profiterole]

Happy Valentine ♡

Why is Leonardo's skin looks so pale ? It didn't look like this on my computer bgvnj

Don't repost, only reblog

[aquagirl1978]

Hello! For the new years celebration could I please ask for Leonardo + touches #12, Comte + kisses #1 and Jean + hugs #11. Thank you! x

Thank you, anon, for this request (I'm embarrassed to say how long this has been in my inbox, so I hope you're still here with us on Tumblr). I hope to have Comte and Jean finished this month.

The Night We Met - Leonardo da Vinci x Reader

A/N: Part of my New Year, New Celebration event and a very belated entry for Cozytober hosted by @randonauticrap

Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci x Reader

Prompt: reaching for the other in the dark

Song: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Lyrics: "Take me back to the night we met."

Word Count: 2131 (the longest fic I've written this year)

Tags: fluff with maybe the slightest hint of angst

“Do you remember the night we met?”

It was a silly question, but one you loved to ask. Just to see his reaction.

He peered at you, his golden eyes narrowing like a cat as he laughed his hearty laugh. “Of course, I remember. It was the night I met a beautiful thief who stole my heart.”

Your breath hitched at his words. Even after all these years, he still had a way of stealing your breath away.

He cupped your cheeks in his large hands, pulling your face close to his. He lowered his voice to a deep whisper, the sweet smell of tobacco pungent in the air.

“But tell me again anyway. Take me back. Take me back to the night we met.”

*****

“What’s this?” you asked, staring at the ornate envelope that was resting delicately in the palms of your hands.

“Open it and find out,” your mother suggested. 

Your fingers trembled as you carefully lifted the gold wax seal, afraid to break something so pretty, so precious, and unfolded its contents. In your short life, you had never seen such elegant writing nor held such heavy paper. You glanced up at your parents to find their faces alight with smiles.

“The King and Queen are having a ball. And everyone in town is invited! Isn’t this exciting?” your mother exclaimed.

“The King will be introducing his son, the crown prince, to the court at this ball. And rumor has it,” your father added, his eyes twinkling as he winked at you, “I heard he is looking for a bride for his son.”

“Don’t fill her head with such nonsense, dear. No one has seen or heard from the prince in some years as he has been away studying. For all we know, he has already found a bride.” 

*****

Your hand shook as you lifted the glass towards your lips; the rose-colored wine was cool as it trickled down your throat. Standing awkwardly with your back against the wall, you watched as pairs took to the ballroom floor. Lively music filled with air as bright colors dazzled, couples dancing in mesmerizing circles around the room.

You welcomed the respite from dancing – it wasn’t that you didn't like to dance, but rather, your previous dance partners each left something to be desired. 

The first suitor had two left feet; you lost count of how many times he stepped on your foot in the span of one song. The second suitor sweated profusely; he looked and felt as if he had spent the entire evening near a hot oven. The third suitor either had selective hearing or was lacking short-term memory; for everything you said, his reply was to ask you how you were doing. 

“Looks like ya need a drink.”

You turned your face towards the owner of the husky voice. Mouth opened, ready to hurl a snarky comeback, your jaw slackened when you saw the amiable smile on the stranger’s face. 

His hand gestured towards the empty glass in your hand, erasing all fears that his intentions were untowards. Sheepishly, you looked down at your drink, or rather what little was left of it, and held the glass out to him.

“Thank you, that would be lovely.” You smiled softly as his fingers touched yours, lingering longer than they should. “Rose wine,” you added, quickly pulling your fingers away when you felt your cheeks flush with warmth.

“I’ll be right back.”

He was true to his word and back by your side in a flash. Mildly curious as to how he got the drinks so fast, you easily pushed those thoughts to the side as he stood next to you, the silence comfortable as you sipped your drinks.

When the music stopped, he turned to you and plucked the glass from your hand. 

“Hey, I was still –”

He let out a small laugh and took your hands in his. “May I have this dance?” he asked, his golden gaze fixed on yours.

Who cared that you didn’t even know his name – you’d be a fool to say no to him.

With a smile so dazzling it could light up the night sky, he whisked you onto the dance floor effortlessly, as if he had been born dancing. 

“What brought you here tonight?” he asked, your bodies swaying slowly in tune with the music.

“My parents got an invitation. I’m here with them tonight.”

“A family obligation…” he surmised.

“You could call it that. What brought you here?”

“A bit of the same. It was easier to show up than fight over it.”

“You’d rather be somewhere else?”

“I’d rather be anywhere else. I was traveling, studying. And they brought me back here. For this? There is a whole entire world out there with so much more to offer than pointless dances. ” 

He stared into your eyes, his words filled with unbridled passion as he spoke. Something stirred deep inside of you. 

And it felt good.

You gazed back at him, struck with awe as you continued to dance, not missing a beat. You barely knew this man, but you wanted to. You suddenly wanted to know everything about him. Where was he traveling? What was he studying? Was he a good kisser?

But there was one question you needed to ask first.

“What’s your name? I’m – ”

He let out a huff of laughter upon hearing your question. You swore you saw a hint of sadness clouding his amber eyes, but it was now gone. 

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked with a wistful smile.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted bashfully, averting your gaze.

“My name is Leonardo da Vinci…”

Your heart stopped and your body became numb. Your eyes returned to his, the same warm pools of honey you gazed into adoringly earlier looking back at you.

“I am…”

“You are the king’s son,” you said before he could.

Your feet felt stuck, like they were glued down to the dance floor; your body stilled, unable to move in light of this discovery. 

He continued to gaze at you, his eyes pleading with you. Stay. Don’t leave me.

Your heart pounded in your chest; the large ballroom started to shrink. Your palms began to sweat; you wanted to release your hands from his but you couldn’t.

He wouldn’t let you.

“My family… we are commoners,” you finally said, the floodgates opening and words started to spill from your mouth. “My father is a shoemaker, my mother sews dresses. I will one day join them and make dresses. We are not nobility.”

I don’t belong here, your eyes said silently, your heart shattering into a million pieces. 

“I need to go.” You forced the words out before turning around, running away before Leonardo could see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

Your steps quickened as you approached the tall glass door, your breath trapped in your throat as you placed your hand on the doorknob, letting out a giant sigh of relief as the metal twisted in your hand.

*****

Your eyes scanned the grand ballroom, desperately searching for an exit. There! A doorway leading outside. 

Pushing the door open just enough to slip through, you finally felt able to breathe in the cool, crisp air. You had no idea where you were – somewhere in the gardens, you guessed. You’d have to find your way back to your parents, but it was worth it to get out of the ballroom.

And far away from him.

Your heart ached thinking of him. Looking up at the sky, the stars shone brightly against the midnight blue blanket as you searched for a shooting star to make a wish upon. 

“What am I doing?” you asked yourself. “It’s hopeless.”

With a soft sigh, you continued on your path, your head down as you followed the stones lit by the moon.

That is until you walked straight into something in the dark. A tall, warm something.

“Goodness! I am sorry, so sorry. I wasn’t looking –”

The figure tilted his head towards you and your heart sank. Of all the people who happened to be at the ball, it had to be him. 

“Sorry I’m not Prince Charming,” he said, taking a long drag from his cigarillo.

“I should be going, I’m sorry I bothered you.” You lifted your skirt as you brushed past him, eager to hurry away.

“Don’t go.” 

He reached for you in the dark, his large hand easily capturing your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. You turned your head, your gaze meeting his, the same desperation that clung to your heart was written in his eyes.

‘We can’t,” you whispered breathlessly, your heart beating so loud you hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Why not?”

You made a face, stunned he would even ask after what happened in the ballroom earlier.

‘Yeah, you already told me.” His eyes wavered as he held your gaze. “And what if I don’t care.”

“You should care. One day, you will be king.”

“Amd marry one of those vultures in there? I’d rather die.” He took another pull from his cigarillo, smoke filling their air between you. “My family is a bunch of bloodthirsty vampires, ready to suck the life out of you the first chance they get.”

He dropped his cigarillo to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot.

“You were the first person in forever that saw me. Not a prince. Not the future king. But me.” He took your hands in his, his thumb pressing against the pulse point in your wrist, sending tingles down your spine. He tipped your chin with his thumb before dipping his face towards yours, his lips so close you could feel his hot breath on your skin. 

“I won’t let you get away that fast, cara mia,” he whispered before kissing you.

His lips covered yours, his tongue slightly sweet as he probed open your parted lips, invading your warm mouth. His hands, large hands rough and calloused, moved from yours, his palms rubbing up your bare arms. Gripping the curve of your shoulders, he pulled your body to his. Your arms wrapped around his waist, your body melting into his as your hands settled on the small of his back. 

You could have stayed there forever, hiding under the dark cover of the sky. 

But forever was not tonight for your name was called in the distance.

“My parents!” you exclaimed, pulling away. “They must be looking for me.”

Leonardo looked at you, his golden eyes darkened with the disappointment of a kiss prematurely broken.

“I have to go,” you whispered breathlessly.

He took a step towards you. And then another and another. Until he was a breath away from you. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he gazed into your eyes until your eyes drifted closed for a moment, your body memorizing how this felt – to be held in his hands like a precious treasure.

And he kissed you again. It was the perfect kiss, like one from a fairy tale, soft and sweet and filled with… 

Love?

The kiss was short and brief, lasting only a few seconds. But it felt like forever.

WHen you parted this time, you both gazed into each other’s eyes silently, words insufficient to convey how you felt about the other.

Not wanting to be found together, you ran away from him the second time that night. But unlike the first, this time you desperately hoped you would see Leonardo again.

*****

“And the very next day, I found you,” Leonardo said, finishing the story. 

He gazed at you with his warm golden eyes, eyes you could stare into forever. 

“That’s only because I told you about my parents. Thankfully, there weren’t too many shoemakers and dressmakers in town,” you said with a small laugh.

“I would have found you.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke. “I made a promise to myself that night I’d find you. Even if I had to turn over every stone in the land, I would have found you.”

Hearing his words of determination tugged on your heartstrings; after all the years you were together, this was the first time you had learned of his promise. Needing to feel his touch, your hands instinctively sought his, your fingers entwining.

Twice you turned your back on him that night, but never again since. You had stood by his side, facing him in your shared journey in life as lovers and partners, and as he became king, and you, his queen.

“I love you, cara mia,” he whispered before kissing you, the sweet taste of tobacco lingering on his lips. 

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @nightghoul381

And just like every kiss you’ve shared since that fateful night, this kiss felt like one from a fairy tale.

[arthurs-puppygirl]

My sleep paralysis demons watching me sleep: